


If I Fail In Rewriting The Past

by SammyLovesASOIAF



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 21:27:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13935768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammyLovesASOIAF/pseuds/SammyLovesASOIAF
Summary: Past souls are reincarnated into a different time and are given a second chance to alter their future by rewriting their destinies. But the past is written, and the ink is dry. Everything that happened is bound to happen. History repeats itself yet again in the most grievous and soul-wrenching way.These souls may have a chance yet, but are they brave enough to fight for what they stand for?





	If I Fail In Rewriting The Past

Before, Westeros was divided into Seven Kingdoms. There were Kings of the Rock in the West, Kings of Winter in the North, Kings of Mountain and Vale in the East, Kings of the Isles and the Rivers in the Riverlands, Storm Kings from the Stormlands, Kings of the Reach in the South, and the Rhoynish Kings and Queens of Dorne, but after Aegon’s Conquest, six of the seven kingdoms were united as one under King Aegon I. Dorne was the last independent kingdom, but after years, they, too, will be brought into the fold. 

This dynasty built by the Dragon, King Aegon, will end after the reign of Jon the Risen. One kingdom split into three: Rickon Stark was given the Kingdom of the North, the Vale and the Riverlands; Lord Tyrion the Wise declined kingship for the West, the Stormlands and the Iron Islands, and instead became regent for the young King Arthur Lannister, who was rumoured to have been the Kingslayer’s son with the Maid of Tarth; and Rhaenyra Targaryen ruled the Crownlands, the Reach, and Dorne.

House Lannister became richer and more powerful. The Lannister fleet was larger than ever, their gold mines were still abundant, and Castamere was rebuilt into a new keep. King Gerold IV Lannister, who was the great grandson of King Arthur and grandfather to King Tywin Lannister, agreed with King Daeron III Targaryen to betroth their children, Prince Tyland Lannister and Princess Rhaena Targaryen. Prince Tyland was the heir to the Rock and Princess Rhaena was the younger sister of Prince Aemon. Thus, House Targaryen and House Lannister had been joined in marriage.

House Stark was once again reigning in the North. King Eddard Stark, who was named after Eddard the Honorable, was King Rickon I’s great grandson and Princess Sansa Stark’s own father. He was honourable like his namesake had been. The heir to the North, Robb Stark, has close ties with the Lannisters through the Young Lion, Jaime Lannister.

Both boys were fostered in the Reach under Mace Tyrell. Young Robb was completely taken with Lady Margaery, but it was a well-known fact that said lady only has eyes for Jaime Lannister. Thankfully, this did not cause a rift between the two young princes because Jaime was clearly not interested in courting Margaery Tyrell.

Brightroar, House Lannister’s Valyrian sword, which was returned to the heir of Casterly Rock by Gerion the Laughing Lion, was said to have been wielded by Goldenhand the Just when he fought against the White Walkers as King Jon’s champion. In the legend, Brightroar glowed until it was enveloped with flames while Ser Goldenhand slashed and killed White Walkers. He died in the battle after protecting King Jon from the Night King, and thereafter known as _Lightbringer_. On the other hand, House Stark’s Ice was restored after the Maid of Tarth returned Oathkeeper and Widow’s Wail back to King Rickon I.

But the history books did not include what happened between the Kingslayer and King Rickon I’s regent, his sister, the Ice Queen in the North. 

And who was the Kingslayer? Who was Ser Goldenhand the Just?

**The Godswood, Present Day**

Princess Sansa of the House Stark stood underneath the weirwood, praying to the old gods, while Prince Jaime of the House Lannister stood behind her, smirking as he spoke. “But my lady, you swore an oath!” 

Sansa smiled. “Indeed I have, my lord. I shall have to honour that oath.” 

Jaime walked closer to Sansa, while leaves crunched under his boots and northern snow continued to fall delicately around them. “When we were little, you told me you’d marry me. Is there still some truth to that? My father, the shrewd man that he is, plans to use this little trip to set a betrothal for us.” 

Sansa turned to him then. Jaime Lannister was five years her senior. She was only eight when she said that, and now she was ten and eight. Prince Jaime, whom she called as only “Jaime” for several years now, was not an unhandsome man. His hair was as golden as the sun, with eyes as green as emeralds. Maidens all over the Three Kingdoms swooned at his cutting smile, square jaw, high cheekbones, and full lips. Now, standing behind her as she whirled to face him, every golden curl, which fell before his shoulders, seemed to have taken time to be placed perfectly atop his head. He was a son of the gods, born amongst men to show the world of the gods’ perfectness. Even Arya, her wild and unruly sister, blushed every time she saw Jaime. This sparked a little jealousy in Sansa, however, but she will never tell Jaime that. His ego was as big as Winterfell! She need not make it even larger. 

“You need not act as if marriage is prison, my lord. If I had not known any better, I would even think that it was you who suggested the betrothal to your father,” Sansa jested, smiling and biting her lips while watching Jaime intently. 

Jaime’s eyes gleamed. “And what if I was the one who indeed suggested it to father, Sansa?” He started, unsure if he had crossed the invisible line drawn by the society for propriety. He continued, “I am not scared of marriage, Sansa. But I am terrified of what marriage with you will be like. My lady, I fear I will not be a good husband. Knowing that, will you still have me?”

Sansa was taken aback by his words. To be raised as royalty meant she had mastered the art of masking her emotions, and she was sure that Jaime had as well. But at this moment, after Jaime had subtly declared he loved her, the joy on her face must have shown because he smiled. “In that case, my lord, as we are not yet properly betrothed, you shan’t call me “my lady”. I am not yours—”

Jaime interrupted her. “Yet. You are not mine yet. In time you would be.”

Jaime stepped forward, propriety be damned, and pulled her into a hug. Sansa’s arms wrapped themselves across his torso, resulting in a mess of gold and red. “You better get used to this, my love, for I intend to be with you for a long time.” Sansa heard Jaime whisper. As his arms wrapped tighter against her, she knew that whatever happened, he would never let her go even if it killed him.

Gold and red was the colour of House Lannister, and the red comet which crossed the sky as Jaime and Sansa stood under the weirwood, marvelling at each other, only boded well for them. Or it could mean war and destruction and death.

**Winterfell, some 160 years ago**  


As the destruction of humanity drew nearer to Winterfell, the Dragon’s army was preparing for a fight they intended to win. But in the protection and warmth of a lady’s chamber, two people, lovers, prepared themselves for an upcoming battle and the end—a permanent goodbye, which neither knew then. 

_“If I die tomorrow—”_

_“You will not! Do not speak of such things. Promise me, my love, promise me you’ll come back to me. For me.”_

_“I promise. We can’t have them accusing me of oath breaking now, can we?”_

_“You are not the man you were before. My brother ought to see that.”_

_“If he were to separate us, I will fight for you. But if I will be the reason for your honour to be stained, I would gladly leave instead.”_

_”Why? You swore to nev—”_

_“For you, my lady. Always for you. You only deserve happiness. Everyone, every northerner, will fight for Ned Stark’s daughter, but not if she has entangled herself with some filthy southerner.”_ He raised his hand. _“And a cripple as well.”_

_“Don’t say that! Y—”_ She was cut off by the alarm sounded by scouts, alerting them of the incoming battle which was yet to be fought. 

The man looked at her one last time, put his hand on top of her belly, kissed her lightly on the lips, and whispered, “I have to help… I love you. Remember it, always.” Then he was gone.

In the end, her brother understood her love. In the end, her love broke yet another oath. In the end, she never saw him again. In a hall inside Winterfell, a lone lady stood before a once flaming sword, dreaming of another life where its owner had not perished and had come back to be with her. Her belly swollen.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
